With Tears I Mourn
by MyLadyLorna
Summary: Jack finally has a decent reason for dragging Sam up to his fishing cabin. With the pain of Martouf's death lingering on in her mind, Jack may be the only one to bring comfort. Please R&R.
1. Tears & Saviors

**With Tears I Mourn: Chapter One - Tears and Saviors**

**Disclaimer:** The characters from _Stargate SG-1 _belong to the franchise for Stargate SG-1 ™. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating:** PG

**Characters: **Jack and Sam

It always felt like something was missing from the story. That Sam didn't mourn Martouf enough, that the others didn't care enough when he died. Well I'm rectifying the situation. I'd always wanted to see Jack and Sam go fishing together. Here's their chance. More chapters will be forthcoming. Please R&R.

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Stunned, Martouf collapsed to the ground, the shots fatal, his life's blood pooling about his feet. Sam reached for him, her arms struggling to hold him tight. But he melted slowly away in an early morning dawn.

Samantha Carter bolted upright in her bed, one hand clinging tightly to the coverlet and the other clutched to her heart. Perspiration dotted her forehead and her short blonde hair sprang wildly in all directions. She could tell without touching her cheeks that they were damp with tears and wearily she collapsed back among the sheets. Turning her face to the wall, Sam struggled to contain the tears, damming them behind her eyelids through sheer willpower.

He was gone.

It had been several weeks since Martouf's death, but the dreams came daily, haunting her sleeping hours. She internalized grief. Always had, and she suspected it was something she'd inherited from her father.

Rolling over, she sighed, resting a gracefully bare arm across her eyes. Going home wasn't an option. She couldn't stand the thought of being so alone. At least at the SGC she could do some studying or complete experiments with certain alien alloys. So she slept in a vacant room, always with one small light clicked on by her bed. Not that it succeeded in frightening away ghoulish visions.

Pushing the covers back, she prepared herself for the day, stripping off her nightwear and donning the appropriate SGC uniform. The black t-shirt brought out the pallor in her cheeks, but she had no desire to cover it with gallons of makeup. Hurrying from the room, she found that the majority of the SGC still slept soundly in their beds. At four o'clock in the morning, it was only sensible.

But she just couldn't sleep and with determined strides hurried to her laboratory to work herself into oblivion for another day. Until her commanded leave expired in one week's time, her work was the only focus she could maintain which prevented her from reliving Martouf's death over and over and over again.

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Rolling over onto his back, Jack emitted a groan of protest, running a hand through his already rumpled hair. His hearing had sensitized since Sam refused to go home for her leave. Being housed next door to her, he couldn't help but notice her restless wanderings at all hours of the night and morning. She walked around with a lost puppy dog expression, her eyes still glazed with shock and pain. Most of the time he simply shrugged it away, but he couldn't do it this morning.

Scrambling into his clothing, Jack starred at his blurry-eyed reflection in the mirror, ruffled a hand through his hair, and admitted that was as good as it was going to get. Sliding around the door to his room, and feeling not a little foolish, he eyed both corridors before following Sam's trajectory.

Pushing a hand softly against the door to her office, he peered around the corner before she knew he was present. Her figure was hunched over her desk, attention firmly placed upon a mass of wires and metal which he could never decipher. But it was her white cheeks, and sorrowful expression which pulled him into the room.

Her gaze never wavered from the project in front of her, that is until Jack softly placed a hand on her shoulder. Jumping in mid-air and tumbling off her chair, Sam whirled to confront her attacker, only to find her favorite colonel with hands spread in a gesture of peace.

"Hey, take it easy, Carter. I'm a friend here, remember."

Her hands lowered instantly, and a mild blush suffused her prominent cheekbones.

"Sorry, sir. I just wasn't expecting company this early."

"Yeah well, you know me. I've always had the worst timing."

A muscle jumped in his jaw, and his hand reached for the first article within reach. A pen began twirling between his fingers, and the slightest smile emerged in her eyes. "So what are ya doin'? Apart from not getting the sleep you need. Doctor's orders if I remember correctly."

The openness in her eyes faded immediately. "Sir, please. I'm doing my job, and besides. . ." she paused hesitantly before continuing, "I don't sleep very well anymore." One of Jack's eyebrows rose in mock surprise, "No, I never would have guessed. You've been waking me up for the past two weeks."

"I'm sorry, sir." Her eyes sought his curiously. "Why don't you just go home? You're not needed here anymore than I am. But in my case, I don't want to go home. What's your excuse?" She'd touched a tender spot, and Jack silently gnawed the inside of his upper lip for a moment before responding. "Carter, I couldn't go home knowing you were here working yourself into an early grave. You're part of my team, so you're my responsibility."

"With all due respect, sir, you don't have to worry about me. I'm fine."

A derisive snort escaped Jack and he demanded, "Oh, you're fine? I can see that you're just fine in the way you stagger down the corridors. Or in how your eyes glaze over every now and than whenever something reminds you of Martouf." Her eyes flickered with brief moisture at his name, and without considering the repercussions Jack grasped her hands firmly, tugging her to look at him directly.

"Sam."

That got her attention. He hadn't used her first name in ages.

"It's all right to grieve. I wish I'd known that before my marriage fell apart. If you don't accept the pain and use it for good, than you'll never fully recover. Believe me, I know." His eyes shone with the truth of his words, and Sam bit her lower lip in an effort to hide the tears.

"Sam, you need a break. From the pain, from all of this."

He hesitated, going over in his mind the consequences of asking. But she needed to get away and he could offer it to her. Finally, he murmured, "I've asked this before, and you've always said no. But come fishing with me. It'll get your mind off things. There's nothing quite like hooking the biggest darn bass you've ever seen to keep your attention focused away from your troubles."

Her jaw nearly dropped, his offer was so unexpected. Her lips parted to utter an emphatic no, but something gave her pause. Perhaps it was the sincerity in his eyes, perhaps it was the way his dark and silver hair stood up just a little in the back, perhaps it was his grasp upon her hands. But whatever the reason, Samantha Carter found herself uttering softly, "All right, Colonel. When do we leave?"


	2. The Oddest Ways

**With Tears I Mourn: Chapter Two - The Oddest Ways**

**Disclaimer:** The characters from _Stargate SG-1 _belong to the franchise for Stargate SG-1 ™. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating:** PG

**Characters: **Jack and Sam

It always felt like something was missing from the story. That Sam didn't mourn Martouf enough, that the others didn't care enough when he died. Well I'm rectifying the situation. I'd always wanted to see Jack and Sam go fishing together. Here's their chance.

Chapter two. Thanks so much for the reviews, folks. Keep them coming.

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Through the backwoods of beautiful Minnesota tramped Colonel Jack O'Neill, pack firmly in place on his back, a sturdy fishing pole in hand, and Major Samantha Carter in tow. A baseball cap was screwed low over his eyes more to hide the twinkle glinting in their depths than to protect himself from the sun.

Sam was already tripping over underbrush.

She generally had a solid grasp on undergrowth, but lately she'd grown accustomed to plant life indigenous to other worlds. And she certainly had never gone fishing in Minnesota. Crossing the creek proved the most difficult, but just as her body seemed prepared to sway into the water, Jack's steady hand gripped her around the elbow and tugged her safely ashore.

"Thank you, sir."

It was a humbling sound to come from Carter's lips and didn't sound right to his ears. "Sam, you need to relax. You're not focusing your attention where it needs to be centered. You've crossed creek beds before, on other planets no less."

Confusion dotted her forehead, combined with the perspiration and dust. "Please tell me you're not appointing yourself as my psychiatrist." A grin spread across his cheeks, enhancing the deep creases, once dimples, along his mouth. "How'd ya guess?"

"Sir, the fishing I'll take, but somehow I can't imagine cake and pie being enough to make me forget my troubles."

"Ahh ah, Carter, never underestimate the power of pie. And, we now have a new rule to the game. While we're out here, you do not call me sir or Colonel or anything other than Jack. If you keep going military on me, than you're not doing yourself any good or me any good. This is a vacation, a break from reality. So let's enjoy it, even if it's only for a week."

Her lips tightened uncertainly. She'd been feeling uncertain a lot lately, and Jack's suddenly boisterous affection wasn't helping matters. But the determination causing his chin to jut out farther than normal was not about to be denied.

She still couldn't shake the shocked expression which spread across Daniel's face and the curious gleam in Teal'c's eyes when they'd announced the fishing expedition. Daniel had even made a subtle suggestion about all of them going, but Jack shut that idea down in a hurry. And now here she was, out in the middle of the woods, with her commanding officer behaving as a friend.

And she didn't really mind.

As she stared at him across the brief expanse of turf which separated them, it seemed that something gave within her soul, just a little bit, yielded, just a little bit. With that cocky grin firmly in place, he didn't give her a chance to respond but calmly tugged her farther along the path, commenting, "And I don't want any arguments from you."

"I suppose it goes both ways, doesn't it?"

A minuscule moment of mischievousness hinted around her words. "You can't call me Carter or major while we're out here. It has to be Sam. And I expect no arguments from you either, _Jack_." The deliberate emphasis she gave to his first name, brought an even deeper smile to his face, but he purposefully refrained from comment.

The cabin was a rather ramshackle affair, and made her smile as it came into view over a small rise. Little more than a lean-to, Jack's personality seeped from every crack and crevice. Out in the middle of nowhere, no modern conveniences, and for the first time in weeks, she felt herself unwinding from the stress.

He opened the door for her, gesturing inside. To her astonishment, the cabin was neat as a pin, something she had not expected. Jack lowered his pack to the floor by the tiny kitchen counter space, glancing at her in amusement. "What? Don't tell me you thought the cabin would be habitable only by bears and mountain lions?"

Swiping a finger along the counter while checking for dust mites, Sam countered, "Well, sir," his eyes lifted, and she corrected, "Jack, your track record for cleanliness hasn't exactly been the greatest. Sometimes your house gives me the hives."

"That's only on my bad days. You haven't seen me in top form yet."

Quietly, she settled onto the bed, removing her cap and running a hand through her short locks of blonde hair. It was primitive. But for the next week this minuscule cabin would be home. And as she eyed the sturdy man busily stocking supplies from his knapsack in various cabinets, Sam felt a twinge of contentedness.

For now, this was where she wanted to be, where she needed to be. And work would not intrude. No SG equipment invaded the premises to remind her of her job. No telephones lingered just around the corner with another order from Hammond.

And as Sam shrugged from her jacket and snatched a can of baked beans from Jack's hand, she felt a part of her come alive that she'd never thought to feel again. Jack was right. This was a good idea. And judging by the delighted twinkle lingering in the brown depths of his eyes, he couldn't be happier.

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It was not going to be easy, and Jack accepted the challenge as Carter wrestled the can away from him and calmly took over KP duties. Right now, she was smiling, but within a few hours time, he knew the memories of Martouf would return triple-strength. It had been the same way with his son's death. Sometimes the idea of a silver-lining to a rain cloud seemed so far out of reach that you only wanted to die. And even with her fierce spirit, she had reached that place.

Only this time, he could help.

Talking about Martouf would come in time. But for now, Jack went along peacefully and enjoyed her company, her smile, the warmth she radiated without even realizing it. And somewhere in his own soul, he felt a weakening, both disturbing and exciting. This would be either the greatest or the worst idea of his life. But he couldn't desert her now.


	3. Beginning the Process

**With Tears I Mourn: Chapter Three - Beginning the Process**

**Disclaimer:** The characters from _Stargate SG-1 _belong to the franchise for Stargate SG-1 ™. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating:** PG

**Characters: **Jack and Sam

It always felt like something was missing from the story. That Sam didn't mourn Martouf enough, that the others didn't care enough when he died. Well I'm rectifying the situation. I'd always wanted to see Jack and Sam go fishing together. Here's their chance.

Chapter three. It's nice to know that people are enjoying my story. Keep the reviews coming.

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"Up and at 'em, Sam!"

For the first time in weeks, she had slept peacefully, rolled up in a humble little cot in a corner opposite from where Jack had collapsed upon his bunk. They hadn't talked much the previous evening, but simply ate quietly before retiring. He had been up later, and the last thing she remembered with any clarity was his muscled arm holding a book on solar systems against his knee with the light judiciously tilted away from her face.

But now, he was using up all the vocabulary he had spared her from last night. A hand dove through the various covers to her shoulder and gave her a vigorous shake, enough to jolt her upwards into a sitting position.

"Time and fish wait for no man, or woman, for that matter."

Bleary-eyed she blinked up at him, focusing in on that painfully cheery smile, far too bright for so early in the morning. "Why is it that when it's time to head out on a mission we can barely drag you from bed, but to go fishing, you're up before the fish themselves?"

He paused as if considering her words, a dimpled grin spread across his face, and he responded, "I don't know. Lucky, I guess! Let's go!" Her bag dropped with a leaden plop beside her on the covers and as she struggled to focus, he pressed a cup of boiling hot coffee into her hands, the steam curling between them in ribbons. And then he was gone, out the door to prepare for who knew what.

Fighting the urge to simply collapse back into bed, Sam struggled to her feet. Taking a cautious sip of the coffee, she dug through her bag for the appropriate attire. Black jeans with a blue button-up blouse and denim collar. The color was delightful for she rarely got the chance to wear civvies.

Trusting Jack's sensibilities, after all she'd known him for nearly four years, Sam swiftly changed into the clothing. A surreptitious tap sounded on the front door just as she finished the last button on her shirt. Clutching the warm cup in her hand, Sam joined him outside where he leaned against the outer wall, his eyes drawn to the gentle beauty of the rising dawn.

"No matter how often I see this view, it always amazes me. There's nothing else like it in the world."

"You love it here, don't you, Jack."

There was no question in her words, but Jack answered anyway, "Yes. When you're raised a certain way and in a certain part of the world, it blends with your soul. It becomes a part of you." She peered into the treeline, watching the green branches slowly tint themselves in orange, trying to comprehend his world. "I don't think I ever had that feeling of complete peace, Jack. My dad did the best he could after Mom died, but it was never the same. There was always a part of me missing."

Jack's piercing eyes melded with her own, understanding and kind. "Then perhaps, this is the time for you to find that peace. I didn't just bring you out here for fishing, you know. I want to help, Sam. I know how much Martouf meant to you. I saw it in your eyes whenever you were together. There was a connection." And if he were honest, a hint of jealousy snatched at his soul whenever the two walked together or spoke in soft undertones. It was something he'd fought hard, and now he was glad Sam never knew.

"Jack, whenever I think of him, I feel such pain. And I know it isn't all mine. There are still remnants of Jolinar in my mind, a connection that we have to each other and to Martouf. It feels like we're both mourning and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I don't know if I can recover." No tears glinted in her eyes, but the sorrow dwelled deep and seemed endless in their depths. Retaining eye contact, Jack smoothly lowered his hand, allowing his fingers to wrap themselves around her palm, gently encompassing the soft flesh of her hand.

"We'll take this road together, one step at a time, Sam. No matter how dark it looks, there will be light on the horizon. After my son died, I never thought my soul would recover. And in many ways it hasn't. When your heart's been shattered, it'll never be whole again. But you can patch the pieces together. And find new pieces. You're strong, Sam. You'll make it."

Before he said too much, Jack released her fingers, strode back into the cabin and called through the open door, "Now let's head out! And you'd better learn to catch something 'cause I'm not sharin' mine!" He was the old Jack again and Sam marveled at his ability to turn his emotions on and off. How she wished for such an advantage. But now wasn't the time to contemplate. Scrambling into the cabin, she ran a bristle brush swiftly through her hair, not even bothering with a mirror, and collected the necessities for a successful day of fishing.

He tossed a few granola bars in her direction which she deftly caught and stuffed into the back pocket of her jeans. Swinging a pole over one shoulder, she smiled at him, saying impishly, "Well, I'm ready. Now let's seewho has best catch of the day." She didn't know a thing about the sport, but knew Jack would prove a fine teacher. And she fully intended to put his outdoorsman abilities to the test.


	4. A Lesson in Fishing

**With Tears I Mourn: Chapter Four - A Lesson in Fishing**

**Disclaimer:** The characters from _Stargate SG-1 _belong to the franchise for Stargate SG-1 ™. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating:** PG

**Characters: **Jack and Sam

It always felt like something was missing from the story. That Sam didn't mourn Martouf enough, that the others didn't care enough when he died. Well I'm rectifying the situation. I'd always wanted to see Jack and Sam go fishing together. Here's their chance.

Chapter four. I love fishing almost as much as Jack does, so I simply couldn't resist. Keep the reviews coming!

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A hand reached out and snatched the pole from Sam's hand before she could even cast her line. Jack's voice rang in her left ear and she resignedly turned to listen as he instructed, "If you had cast this, the line would have given out a few feet from the water. You see where your index finger was?" He took her hand from where it stood upon her hipbone and placed it firmly on the reel, demonstrating. "You hold it this way, so the line spins freely and doesn't wrap itself around your hand, taking you into the water with the rod."

The humor in his voice was too much, and Sam calmly retrieved her pole, edging him aside with one hip. "Jack, I think I can manage to cast one hook into the water without drowning myself." Hands raised in surrender, he stepped away, shoving them into his pockets, and eyeing her as she determinedly prepared to cast her line.

His gaze firmly planted on the back of her hand unnerved her slightly, and with eyes raised heavenward momentarily, she inhaled a deep breath, then proceeded to fling a prayer and the line toward the water. To her astonishment and that of the man at her side, the line smoothly unwound itself, dropping the bait with a smooth kerplunk into the water several yards from shore.

Her voice rang triumphantly. "How's that, Mr. Hot Shot?"

Jack's left hand swiped the ball cap from his head while his right ran animatedly through his shock of silvering hair. "Well, I'll be . . ." his voice trailed off into silence. He glanced at her admiringly, exclaiming, "You're just full of surprises." His eyes followed the trajectory of the line's descent and a smile touched his lips. "And unless, I'm mistaken, you have your first nibble."

"What!"

The sudden yank on the pole in her hand brought Sam's attention back to the mellow river, now more of a creek bed. Grasping the pole in both hands, she reached for the spool to reel it in. Jack leapt into action before she could move, his hands gently enclosing over hers, he commanded, "Set the hook first." She glanced at him, and he pretended to yank on a fishing pole.

"Oh!"

Hurriedly she followed his direction and within thirty seconds had a brightly silvered trout flopping on the shore. Her very first catch. The exhilaration was inspiring and she grinned at him as he expertly removed the fish from the hook, setting it on a waiting stringer. "It's no wonder you love fishing so much, Jack!"

He grinned up at her from his position on the ground, settling the stringer into a nearby shallow pool of water and firmly securing it to a twig already safely embedded in the sandy soil. "Of course, most of the time no one wants to come up here with me. Daniel always eyes me with an aghast expression and Teal'c." He shook his head in bemusement. "That fella was miserable the only time I took him fishing."

"Well, I think I'm going to enjoy it, Jack, so thank you."

She brushed a slimy substance from the soft rubber worm on her hook, rolling it between her fingers while the pole rested upon her shoulder. Her eyes refused to move from her occupation, and she hesitated before finally saying, "I almost said no. It didn't seem. . ." she paused and he completed her sentence, "Appropriate. I know. And maybe it's not, but we both needed the break."

He glanced around in a playfully surreptitious manner. "And frankly, I was about to go nuts at the base. And I could hardly keep you company if I went home. So this seemed the only other option which would get you off the base and prevent my mind from snapping."

A smile softly played about her lips as he began preparing his own fishing rod, selecting a vibrant blue worm from his tackle box and attaching it with care. A twinkled in his eye, he flung the line toward the water, smirking at her as he proclaimed, "And now you'll have a fight on your hands. We'll just see who brings home the most fish." She merely shook her head in amusement, watching him subtly with her face turned mostly away from him.

He seemed so natural out here, among the trees and with the trickle of the river in the background. The surroundings transformed him into a completely different man from the one she saw every day at the SGC and who she followed trustingly on numerous missions through the Stargate.

Here, he was truly genuine. And as he cast his line into the water, a thought niggled at the back of her mind just as the fish had nibbled upon her hook. Perhaps their friendship could finally develop into a more lasting relationship. And perhaps . . .

She cut that train of thought off before it even left the ground, a vision of Martouf's smiling features suddenly floating before her eyes. The sudden pang of grief sent any romantic notions fleeing for cover and Sam hurriedly turned back to her fishing.


	5. Jack's Viewpoint

**With Tears I Mourn: Chapter Five - Jack's Viewpoint**

**Disclaimer:** The characters from _Stargate SG-1 _belong to the franchise for Stargate SG-1 ™. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating:** PG

**Characters: **Jack and Sam

Hello, readers:-) First of all, I need to address a few things. Here's a heartfelt thank you to those who reminded me about the zhatarc detector and how Jack and Sam had to admit to their feelings openly or be accused of lying by the machine. It's been a while since I've seen that episode, and though I clearly recall Martouf's death, that bit had slipped my mind. But I will have to wait for season four to arrive from my library before I can write an accurate chapter involving that discussion and memory. When that comes, so will the full chapter. For now, here's a brief mention from what I can recall of that scene.

And thank you for the numerous reviews. They really encourage me to continue writing. I do have a teensy request though. If you have a suggestion or comment outside the regular reviewing, please send it via PM rather than through the review system. Some things have nothing to do really with the story overall and are extra comments or suggestions. I'd love to read them! But through the PM system and not as a review. Thanks, guys!

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A flicker of firelight flared up from the mound of logs and twigs which Jack carefully placed in the proper circle. The rising flame illuminated Sam's features suddenly in the dim twilight, her pensive eyes and contemplative mouth. She stared off into the distance as if some unknown creature wistfully called her name. Only Jack knew it was not a creature, but rather a voice. And it didn't call "Sam," it called "Samantha."

She had won the fishing expedition, returning with five fish to his four. But he really didn't mind.The gleeful glint of triumph in her eyes had made him smile, but now she sat with arms sadly wrapped around her legs and cheek resting upon one knee. When occupied, Sam forced away her demons through pure will power. But now, with night descending fast and the forest sounds slowly rising up to greet them, she couldn't push away the pain.

Placing three now cleaned and prepped fish onto a straight stick, Jack lay it atop two branches pushed into the ground, the fish hanging just out of reach of the flames. He eyed her quietly, and a silent sigh of frustration crept from his lips. They need to talk. Sam wasn't behaving any differently toward him really. No uneasiness, but the one thing which needed to be said was something both of them dreaded yanking out into the open.

It was a memory which haunted Jack more than Martouf's death. He and Marty had never really been good buddies, although there had been moments where at least the antagonistic behavior lessened. Jack knew it was because of Sam and Martouf's involvement with her, or rather Jolinar. Sam stood, made a quiet comment about fetching a jacket and vanished into the cabin, leaving him alone in the dark. He still couldn't quite comprehend how Sam held memories, not her own,of Martouf, but she obviously did. Watching them together, as they had walked or worked together had unnerved him.

Martouf had tugged her further away from him, and Jack couldn't fight it. Even now, the tiniest twinge of guilt struggled to surface, accusing him of taking advantage of his major by bringing her out to the wilds of Minnesota. Some rules he held no qualms about breaking. But not this one. This one bore a higher importance and kept things professional between soldiers. Even when he fought them, his feelings for Sam simply grew stronger with each passing day.

That To'kra lie detector brought everything to light. Even things with no relevent bearing to the situation being investigated. And Jack vividly recalled a watered-down, subtelized, description of his feelings for Sam being forced into the hearing of all present at the interogation. The one mission where even she demanded he leave her behind, and he wouldn't do it. The touch of their palms through the force field, their expressive glances, filled with trepidition that this might be the end before they'd even had a beginning.

Sam's return broke through his musings, and Jack softly patted the ground at his side. She hesitated, her wide eyes narrowing thoughtfully before she quietly sank down beside him, a black full-length linen coat laying around her shoulders. One edge barely slipped, revealing the blue shirt beneath. Glancing at her as she gazed into the fire, Jack delicately reached around her slender back and returned her coat to her shoulder, allowing a soft caress of affection to slip through in his touch. A shuddery sigh slid from Sam's form, but she didn't speak. Silently, they both turned to watch as steam began slowly curling from the fish as the flames obeyed their orders.

"Jack."

Her voice wavered softly, uncertainty ringing her words. Sam was never uncertain and Jack shifted slightly so he could see her features more clearly in the dim light. After a momentary pause of uncertainty, she continued, "I keep hearing him, in my head. But it's not really my head, is it? Whatever remnant remains of Jolinar feels Martouf's death so strongly, so passionately, that it rushes through me in agony. I miss him, so much. Because of Jolinar I knew him better then I knew most people. I saw inside of him, his heart, his goodness, his love of all things right and proper."

Stroking his left index finger across his brow, Jack contemplated a reply carefully before responding, "I wish I could say I knew what you were going through. In many ways, I do, but not on the level of having someone else's memories crammed into your brain. But Sam, you need to remember one thing."

Reaching out, he tenderly grasped both of her shoulders in his large hands, turning her to face him directly.

"Those memories which haunt you are Jolinar's memories. I'm not saying some of the pain you feel isn't real, because it is. But some of it is Jolinar and not you. And that part you need to lock away before it overwhelms you. Feel your own sorrow, your own pain. And then you can move on. Sam, believe me, I still miss my son. It's an ache lingering deep in my gut whenever I see a small boy running with a kite or playing ball with his father. Those are things I used to do, things I loved to do, but with my son. That pain will never leave completely. You'll always feel a void. There are times when I turn and expect him to be there. You'll go through the same experience, sensing that he should be there, that he might come walking through the Stargate on a To'kra request. But slowly, time will pass, and the anguish will grow fainter over the years. Healing is possible, if you let it try."

A solitary tear shimmered in Sam's expressive eyes, lingering in their depths before slowly releasing its hold and sliding down her cheek, leaving a glistening trail of sorrow along her skin. Gently, Jack drew her into his arms, holding her tightly to his chest with her head upon his shoulder. Her form stiffened at the first contact and then relaxed as the sobs finally took a solid hold, her arms reaching around to cling to the sturdy muscles of his back. Jack knew his shirt would be damp before the end of the storm, but as she shook in his arms, he finally knew she would be all right.


	6. Must I Remember

**With Tears I Mourn: Chapter Six - Must I Remember**

**Disclaimer:** The characters from _Stargate SG-1 _belong to the franchise for Stargate SG-1 ™. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating:** PG

**Characters: **Jack and Sam

Chapter six. I hope you appreciate the pain that went into writing this installment. Whether you agree with me about Martouf or not, I know he meant a lot to Sam. Some of it was Jolinar, but some of it was herself. And I know, just know, that she would have been tormented by the memory of firing the last shot.

And don't worry. We'll get to the emotional Jack/Sam stuff. This has to come first though, so stay with me. Please R&R.

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A rustling sound yanked Jack from his sound slumber and he rolled from the comfortable position on his stomach to his side. The darkness of the cabin was absolute, preventing him from perceiving anything out of the ordinary. Except the sudden cry of despair emanating from Sam's bunk. Struggling to reach his flashlight, Jack switched it on just as her body thrashed, arms and legs skewed. Twisting sideways off the bed, she thudded to the floorboards, limbs smacking the wood.

Leaping from the covers engulfing his legs, Jack finally set his bare feet to the floor and yanked her upwards and into his arms. "Come on, Sam. Snap out of it!" She did not or could not respond to his desperate voice and remained asleep, but a sleep which brought anything but peace.

"_Samantha?"_

_Riddled with bullets and stunned by a single shot from a zat, the confusion and sudden fear in Martouf's eyes sent sorrow through Sam's mind. His hand was rising, slowly bringing the tiny instrument of destruction toward his own skull, and he could not stop it. He struggled, his arms shaking with the effort to lower them, but the Zhatarc programming proved too strong for him to overcome._

_A single tear slid down her cheek, her head tilted as her eyes conveyed compassion and begged his forgiveness. Then she fired the fatal shot. His body crumpled to the floor, the life ebbing from his beautiful eyes._

_Sam dropped her weapon, leaping to his side and cradling him into her arms, caressing him as she remembered Jolinar doing. His head lolled to the side, eyes forever shut, and her hands softly moved along the skin of his cheek and neck, drawing him closer._

_Distantly she heard Jack announce, "We're all clear," and General Hammond's voice demanding to know if his people were all right. Everything else seemed a distant blur through she heard the voices._

_Her eyes lifted and met Anise's who quietly uttered, "I promise you his death will ultimately prove to be a noble sacrifice." Sam's head nodded automatically at the words which should have comforted, but instead condemned. Bowing her head, she allowed the tears to congeal beneath her lashes, her arms clinging to his lifeless form._

A gentle crack across her cheekbone wrenched Sam up from her memory and she struggled against the arms binding her. Slowly her mind cleared as did her vision and in the single beam of a flashlight, Sam saw Jack's panicked expression lingering overhead. Everything came back to her; the leave she'd taken, the small cabin by a creek, and the gentle giant determined to help her.

"Jack?" Her voice trembled.

"Yeah, I'm right here. Ya had me scared for a minute there. How about we not try that again any time soon, all right?" His voice was equally unsteady, as were his arms braced around her shoulders. Her composure crumpled and weakly she turned her cheek into his chest. "I killed him, Jack. He trusted me, loved me, and I fired the shot which stole his life."

Astonished, he held the weeping woman in his arms, tightening them more firmly around her back. "Sam, don't do this. If Marty were here, he'd say the exact same thing. He would not blame you for his death, so don't blame yourself." Her head rose and in the low lighting her eyes glowed luminously, the tear streaks on her cheeks speaking plainly of her sorrow.

"Jack, you don't understand. That day, that very same day, he admitted his feelings for me openly. He said that he didn't want to lose the last connection to Jolinar that he had, but that he didn't want to lose me either. That he'd grown fond of me. And I never told him just how important he was to me. Expressing emotion was hard for him, and Lantesh always took over when it grew too difficult. But I knew his heart. I destroyed it."

Tenderly, Jack cupped her cheeks with both hands, whispering, "No, Sam. Now you listen to me. You gave him life. You gave him something he thought he had lost. You returned Jolinar to him. You made him smile. Everything you did for Martouf was out of the goodness of your heart. You never took, but always gave. And he would be the first to remind you of it."

She swallowed, lips trembling, eyes growing heavy. "But it's so hard, sir."

He did not bother correcting her slip into military lingo and just held her close, "I know. I know it is, Sam. But you can't let it win. You can't let this beat you. I'm here, and I'll always be here. We'll make this journey as a team." The words came distantly to her exhausted mind. All she knew were Jack's arms securely wrapping her in solid comfort. Her head slipped to his shoulder as she slid back into sleep.

Shifting to a more comfortable position, Jack settled onto the floor, stretching out his long legs beneath Sam's. With his free hand, he tugged a pillow free from her cot and arranged it beneath his head, pulling Sam's slumbering form closer to his body. Her blankets were tangled about her legs and he left them there. Tenderly stroking a stray strand of blonde hair from her cheek, his thumb brought away a damp reminder of her pain.

"It'll be all right, Sam. I promise," he whispered into her hair before allowing sleep to catch him up and send him into a spiraling chasm of darkness. The flashlight remained their only witness.


	7. Rules & Regulations

**With Tears I Mourn: Chapter Seven - Rules & Regulations**

**Disclaimer:** The characters from _Stargate SG-1 _belong to the franchise for Stargate SG-1 ™. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating:** PG

**Characters: **Jack and Sam

Chapter seven. Life caught me up there for a time where I couldn't write in my fanfics, so forgive me.Please R&R.

>>>>>>>>

A ferocious ache in his back and leg urged Jack to face the morning and he cracked his eyelids, a single beam of sunlight piercing through the window and landing upon his face. With a groan, he turned sideways out of the line of fire, struggling to push himself up from the floor. Sam was gone. He blinked, the warm light playing with the ends of his dark and silvered hair. Scrambling to his feet and biting the inside of his cheek against muttering an oath at the sharp pain in his knee, Jack stumbled to the door of his cabin.

She sat silently on the deck, hands wound around a cup of coffee, the steam swirling into the chilly early morning air. A long sweater encompassed her slender frame, the sleeves extending past her hands where she gripped the mug. One arm lifted to brush a lone trail of moisture from her cheek. Sighing, he allowed the door to silently slide closed as he turned back into the cabin. Taking several moments to change and pop a few painkillers, he too grabbed a chipped mug from the cabinet and poured himself some hot, black coffee.

Sam had heard the subtle creak of the door opening a few inches, but hadn't turned. His presence sinking onto the wooden planking at her side didn't startle her. She turned and offered him a surprising smile, evident in the rapid blinking of his dark eyes.

"This place really is beautiful, Jack."

Her eyes followed the gentle rising of the sun, turning the trees to rich gold and auborn hues as it took to the sky, soaring in all of its splendid glory. "Thank you. For everything you've done. As odd as it may sound, I think I slept better last night, after the bout, than I have in a long time. The world doesn't look so depressing and alone as it once did."

Her words warmed him more than he would admit and a cheeky smile slid to his lips as he replied, "Yeah, well, that's what the great outdoors can do for you."

She shook her head in denial. "No, Jack, it's what you did for me. All of this, everything that's happening. You did it for me. You started the healing process, not the woods or the fishing, only you." His eyes turned away from her, starring out into the distant trees andvague glinting of silverwater.

"Sam . . ."

She abruptly cut him off, laying a hand on his bare arm and urging him to look into her eyes. "Don't say anything. I know this is mostly a dream and nothing can ever come of it. But let's live in the dream, if only for a short time. We'll go back to being Major and Colonel soon enough."

His lips tightened in a long-recognized habit, a hand fiddled with the edge of a plank, pulling splinters from their pine prison. Saving him the effort of responding, she smiled and stood, airily proclaiming,"And I think we have more fishing planned, since that is why you brought me here. I'll fix us some breakfast and then let's hit the trails."

Her slender form distanced itself from him, moving into the cabin, a low cheerful hum of a popular tune escaping her throat. Once the door shut behind her, Sam leaned against the sturdy wood, her blue eyes closing in amazement at her forward action toward him. For years they had refused any physical contact. Whenever it did happen, it was always due to some form of alien invasion, but never personal. Now that wasn't the case. And she didn't regret speaking so freely.

Nothing was said of love, though she knew, deep inside, that she loved him, more dearly than imaginable. And that emotion had to be contained, at all costs. But it wouldn't prevent her from preparing a warm breakfast out of the curious canned goods brought along. Nor did it keep her from glancing out the window at Jack's contemplative shape on the deck, his back propped against a wooden support, one leg drawn up with the hand holding his coffee cup resting on it.

All Jack wanted at that moment was to hold her. She had very nearly given him permission, but he couldn't. Rules and regulations swam before his eyes. One in particular, one which he had never broken and never would. Temptation came in many shapes, of that he was fully aware, but it had never manifested itself in the form of Samantha Carter before. He had pulled her to this retreat with the best of intentions. But now it seemed that his intentions might have an ignoble compromise in mind.

"Damn!" It barely escaped into the frosty air, but adequately reflected his emotions. "Rules and regulations be damned."


	8. Making the Commitment

**With Tears I Mourn: Chapter Eight - Making the Commitment**

**Disclaimer:** The characters from _Stargate SG-1 _belong to the franchise for Stargate SG-1 ™. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating:** PG

**Characters: **Jack and Sam

Chapter eight. I freely admit that this has been the hardest chapter to write. Perhaps because Jack and Sam were so strictly military-minded and therefore it's hard to imagine either of them making such a move. But then I think of an episode in the 7th season, _Grace_, where Jack (albeit a vision Jack) stated, "I'm a pretty safe bet." Something had to happen between them, even if it's only for a day or a week or a month. So that's what I'm going for.

Sorry if it's not physical enough for you, but this is only a PG fanfic. winks Please R&R.

>>>>>>>>

"Sam?"

Her head turned from the kitchen counter where she was in the process of slopping a variety of canned goods into various pots and pans. The expression on his face sent trepidation zinging through her form. A certain reckless determination shone in his eyes, and she forced herself not to step backward when Jack deliberately invaded her personal space.

"We need to talk."

His breath stirred the short strands of her blonde hair and she uneasily cleared her throat. "I thought we just did, Jack." One hand slowly moved upward and plucked the half-cleaned plate from her hands, replacing it in the frothy white suds in the rusted sink. "We're both tiptoeing around the issue, here, and I think you know why."

He took a step backward, a hand animatedly running through his silvering hair. "Sam, we've talked about everything, all the reasons why a relationship won't work." Her eyes flickered to the floor and she uneasily shifted back and forth. "Yes, I'll say it if you won't. I want to at least give it a try. Sam, we both know why a relationship would be a bad idea. It's against regulations, all the rules we've accepted as gospel. But this rule has been broken before. We wouldn't be the first time."

She refused to look up at him, so his fingers gently nudged under her chin, bringing her brilliant blue eyes level with his own. "Look at me and tell me you don't want this." A muscle tightened in her jaw. "When Martouf died, we never discussed the issue we both underwent with that Tok'ra lie detector. The days moved into weeks and finally it felt like the time had passed. But if a simple piece of machinery, however high-tech, can reveal our feelings for each other, then why can't we say them just as freely?"

Her brow crinkled, teeth absently gnawing on her lower lip. His brown eyes bored into her soul as intensely as the sun. In her heart of hearts, she knew this was a repressed emotion. Something she had carried since the very moment she entered the SGC and looked into Colonel Jack O'Neill's mischievous eyes. She had willed it away, time and again, until it became habit to simply deny the truth. This place was bringing all of her innermost longings to the forefront of her mind, manifesting themselves in her emotions.

"I don't want to deny it any more." The words escaped in a low whisper.

His hands rose to caress her cheeks, fingering a strand of her blonde hair. Her sensitive eyes meshed with his, unable to glance away, had she even desired it. He pleaded, "Then don't. We don't have to bring it back to the SGC with us, but here, we can lose ourselves in the moment. Just for a moment."

Hesitantly, he lowered his head, leaning his forehead against hers, eyes slowly closing at the sensation of her warm skin against his own. One hand lowered and found its way around her lower back, drawing her fully against him. She didn't fight him, her breathing steady as her chest rose and fell against his sturdy torso. As if he feared her reaction, his lips whispered across her high cheekbones, barely caressing her flesh. She exhaled a soft sigh, and with the brief sound of acquiescence, his lips captured hers in a full kiss.

Her arms slowly wound their way around his neck, drawing him nearer, urging their connection to continue. Delicate fingers brushed through his soft hair as he kissed her again. Finally, they drew back, Jack's eyes dazed and hers smiling up at him.

"Wow." He murmured.

A full-fledged grin lit her features, and eyes sparkling, she responded, "Yeah, wow." She leaned her cheek into his palm, her countenance expressing a joyful peace that he hadn't seen in weeks. "I won't regret it if you won't, Jack." His eyes narrowed mischievously, the indentations in his cheeks lengthening as he displayed the quirky smile she loved so much. "I always knew kissing you would raise my blood pressure, Sam. I just never imagined we'd get to test it."

She playfully pushed at his chest with her palms, not hard enough to dislodge her from his embrace. "Who knew that it would take a tragedy to bring us together, Jack. What just happened, that was real. The part of me that loved and still loves Martouf is so separate from what I feel for you. Jolinar loves and misses him. But I look at you, and I see hope for my future."

Sam wrapped her arms around his waist, deliberately holding his gaze for a long moment. "Let's make this week one to remember. Even if we go back to the SGC and pretend nothing happened, as if it were a distant vision. We'll know the truth." His features smoothed into a rare semblance of composure. "Once we start this, Sam, I won't want to go back. Our relationship will be for the long haul, whether we admit it freely to the hierarchy or not."

Her lips pursed contemplatively, before reveling in the freedom to lightly kiss him.

"Good!"


	9. Firelight & Promises

**With Tears I Mourn: Chapter Nine - Firelight & Promises**

**Disclaimer: **The characters from Stargate SG-1 belong to the franchise for Stargate SG-1 ™. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating: **PG

**Characters: **Jack and Sam

Chapter nine. I despise writer's block and that is what happened. I won't make any promises about when the next installment will come along. But I will say that this story will eventually be complete. Someday, somewhere, somehow. So to those of you still reading, keep on going. You'll get to the end when it comes. Please R&R.

>>>>>>>>

Firelight cast wavering shadows upon the treetops, fading into nothing before it stretched its wavy touch to the starry heavens. Sam's head nestled against Jack's shoulder, his arm stretched firmly about her waist. They stared contentedly into the flickering flames as they danced and leapt among the kindling. A bullfrog began a mournful croaking to their left, somewhere across the gentle expanse of water.

She shifted in his arms, her ash blonde hair caressing his neck as she curled deeper into his embrace. "I almost wish we didn't have to return." Her voice was a low murmur, as if she feared being overheard. His exhaled sigh pressed against her side, emanating from deep within his diaphragm. "I know what you mean."

The day had been beautiful.

Seven fish rested in a water cooler just inside the door to his cabin. Sam's lips were stretched in a contented smile from the numerous caresses he had tenderly placed there. But reality was settling around them like a damp blanket, and she shuddered uneasily. "We can't go back to the way things were, Jack. Even if we wanted to." His cheek idly rested against the top of her head, his dark eyes gazing hypnotically into the flames.

The tug of reality sent resentment zinging through his thoughts and muscles bunched in his biceps. His mind's eye pictured the shock resonating through Daniel's eyes Mild disapproval would rest upon General Hammond's features. Teal'c would not physically react, but his eyebrow would lift in curiosity. Sam shifted against his shoulder, silently waiting for him to say something. Anything.

A shooting star sped across the heaven's, its briefly dazzling formation drawing their stares. A premonition settled in his stomach, watching the brief light ignite the heavens before extinguishing. His fingertips caressed her soft hair, brushing the strands away from her forehead before replacing his touch with a kiss.

"Sam."

Her name breathed into the night air, and Sam's eyes squeezed shut, a single tear struggling to escape its confines. "I don't want to hear it, Jack. Not now." Her embrace around his mid section tightened invariably. "Then I won't say it. We'll keep our relationship hidden, Sam, a secret from everyone we know." Frustration echoed with every word and he pulled away from her, launching to his feet. Sparks flew from the fire as his boot accidentally kicked dust into it. He ran his hands through his hair, encouraging it into wilder spikes.

Her hand gently stretched across the sudden chasm between them, sliding into his palm, the perfect fit. What began as an innocent invitation had developed into so much more. What had remained unspoken for so long now hung in the air between them. And all Jack wanted was to claim her; to hold her close and defeat the night terrors that threatened to consume her soul.

In desperation he flung himself to his knees, drawing her forward into his embrace. "Sam, whatever happens, we will never forget today. This is our time, and if it's the only time we're allowed, than so be it. I can't retire. I came out of retirement for the Stargate program and I won't rescind it now. And your leaving is entirely out of the question."

"What do you recommend, Jack?"

"I'm all for keeping it hidden, Sam. It wouldn't be the first time in military history and certainly not the last. Believe me, I wish there were another way. I know that if General Hammond even looks at me sideways, I'll feel enough guilt that it'll resonate across my face. He'll know I'm guilty of some infraction, just not the precise one."

In spite of the serious expression on his face, one strand of dark hair stood straight up on the crown of his head and Sam couldn't restrain a laugh. Heaviness remained upon her soul, but gazing into his dark eyes, tracing his beloved features with a fingertip, all thoughts troubling her mind melted away. "You know something, Jack?" He drew away from her slightly, his hands tenderly caressing her arms in a movement to make her shiver in physical reaction.

"What?"

The husky quality to his tone almost distracted her from her intent, but Sam forced herself to focus. "I would do anything for you, even protect our secret. Returning to a lackluster life is out of the question now." He nodded, making an "mmhhmm," sound as his hands wrapped around her arms, tugging her around so her back rested against his chest. The touch of his lips against the base of her neck sent shudders of awareness through her slender form, and Sam struggled to retrace her train of thought. "You're not helping." He murmured a warm "Thanks" against her ear.

Warmth built in her chest, slowly rising until her breathing increased with every caress he bestowed upon her flesh. In between kisses across her neck and cheekbone, Jack queried, "So, are we in agreement?" Her hair fluttered against his chin as she nodded before turning and accepting his kiss fully. Jack's arms completely engulfed her tiny waist, drawing her up tightly against him. Moments passed, and finally, they separated, Sam's cheeks flushed rosy and bright.

Eyes melding, they stared at each other silently for several moments until Sam whispered a soft "Goodnight" and gently pressed a kiss to his jaw line. Dusting her pants, she drew away from him and hurried into the safe distance of the cabin, curling into her bunk and listening for his footsteps. Minutes passed and he remained away and Sam finally drifted into a comfortable sleep.

When it felt like his body would meld to the cold earth, Jack finally stretched to his feet and cautiously drew open the creaky door, creeping across the floor to his cot. The discomfort of his bunk didn't even register as he sank into its depths, watching Sam breathe steadily across from him, her hands folded serenely beneath her cheekbones.

It was going to be a long night.


	10. Remember Me

**With Tears I Mourn: Chapter Ten - Remember Me**

**Disclaimer:** The characters from _Stargate SG-1 _belong to the franchise for Stargate SG-1 ™. I do not claim possession of any copyrighted characters. Any and all other characters belong to me and may not be used without my permission.

**Rating:** PG

**Characters: **Jack and Sam

Chapter ten. I freely admit that I was, am, and will always be, a Martouf fan. It's strange how you can ship a certain way, but also find room for others. I loved Sam and Narim just as much. So somehow I just felt that if she were to ever be fully free to love Jack, Martouf would have to let her go. So here's what could have happened, in the Stargate world. Please R&R.

>>>>>>>>

The warmth of her thin blanket penetrated Sam's subconscious mind and she curled closer into the bunk, extending one arm smoothly beneath her pillowcase. Across the few feet that separated them, Jack shifted slightly on his cot, rolling from one side to the other with a grunt, a tuft of hair standing straight up in the back. Even exhausted, she found the energy to smile in amusement. Since everything seemed normal, her lashes fluttered closed when a soft light tugged her into wakefulness.

Unwilling to open her eyes completely, Sam buried her head deeper into the pillow, but the light purposefully brightened, causing her to squint. Finally, she exhaled an aggravated breath and opened her eyes, expecting to see the morning sun shining through a sliver in the blinds. Instead, her breath hitched sharply in her throat.

A figure stood in the center of the room, outlined in a white light.

Startling upwards, she almost leapt across the flooring between her and Jack's bunks, a hand extended to shake him awake, when a voice murmured softly, "Samantha" giving her pause. Almost afraid to face the shimmering creature before her, Sam fought vulnerability and turned toward the form. Slowly, the white faded until only a faint gleam lingered around the edges of a familiar shape. Her lips parted in shock and she gasped his name questioningly.

"Martouf?"

That familiar, gentle smile engulfed his features and she blinked, the cot creaking beneath her weight as she sank back onto the pile of blankets in shock. Tenderness gleamed from his eyes and he stepped across the room toward her, halting a few feet from the cot. "I know what you're thinking, Samantha, but this is not a hallucination. I wish I could explain your experience in terms you would understand, but I cannot. Only know that I am here and that I have come to set your mind at ease."

His hand reached out to her, and Sam froze, her fingers clasped tightly around the fabric of the flimsy blanket. Finally, her eyes melding with his, she extended unsteady fingers and placed them uneasily into his palm. It was warm flesh, blood flowing freely through the veins. She blinked and the room instantly melted away. Yanking her hand away from Martouf's grasp, Sam found herself standing outside in the fading moonlight, fully clothed.

"What's happening?"

She immediately took on a defensive stance, hands raised just above her waist and feet separated. His smile reflected amusement, and Sam eyed him warily, finally inquiring in a suspicious tone, "I saw you die, Martouf. I sent the killing blast through your body. This isn't real, no matter how much I would wish it so." His hands grasped her arms and she lashed out, a foot flying in an instinctive maneuver, only to find herself being propelled directly through his body. The hard ground flew up to meet her and she landed with the wind knocked from her lungs, whirling to face him once more.

Martouf shook his head, reaching out and grasping her arms with a very real sensation, pulling her to her feet once more. "Always the doubter, Samantha. I would have expected nothing less from one such as you. I am no longer corporeal, but rather spiritual. You are the only reason I have returned at all." Hesitantly, her fingertips extended and brushed across the firm flesh of his face. His grey eyes closed against her touch and Sam exhaled unsteadily, drawing her hand across his cheekbone and lips.

"It is you." Her voice shook and if not for his grasp upon her arms she would have sunk to the ground in shock. "I don't understand." Martouf's hand ruffled through strands of her hair, seemingly fascinated with the texture and sensation. Lips parting to speak, he paused momentarily as if searching for the appropriate words, finally answering her questioning stare with a soft, "We haven't much time, Samantha. But I will make use of the time available."

Sam's hand rose to shield her eyes from a sudden blinding flash and when they opened again she found herself in a warm room, tastefully decorated in deep burgundy and gold brocade. A warm fire crackled upon the grate and Martouf tenderly took her hand, pulling her onto a sofa plumped full of golden cushions. Only stars were visible through the window, no trees, no earth, nothing but millions of twinkling spheres. Starting to believe, one edge of her mouth quirked in astonished curiosity and she queried, "What is this place?"

"A halfway mark to my final resting grounds. I would be there now, Samantha, if you had not called me back." She met his gaze directly. "I called you back?" Eyes crinkling, Martouf smiled. "Not in so many words, Samantha, but yes. Rosha wished me to send you greetings and a heartfelt thank you." The fire vigorously sparked and Sam grasped his hands. "She's with you, finally?" He nodded soothingly. "I'm so glad, Martouf. I know how her death pained you."

"That is not why I am here, Samantha."

Her brow creased. "I'm not sure I understand, Martouf. Why, exactly, are you here?"

"To bring comfort. Samantha, my death was not your fault. Jack has been doing his best to convince you, but I sensed the guilt you experienced and which continues to gnaw at you. The only conclusion was that I tell you myself." A strand of blonde hair fluttered toward her forehead and he tenderly maneuvered it back into position. "And to give my blessing for your relationship with Jack."

Cheeks flushing to a dusky rose, Sam shifted uneasily beside him. Martouf laughed easily. "I am glad he has brought you comfort. It was something that I could not give. Samantha . . ." His gaze lowered to stare mesmerized into the flames. "Live your life, promise me this. True happiness is extremely fragile. I do not want fear of the unknown to prevent you from fulfilling your potential. Do not allow memories of my demise to restrain you."

"Martouf, I can never forget."

"I would never want you to forget, Samantha. Only remember with fondness rather than pain. I loved the moments we spent together. You brought Jolinar to me, but a new Jolinar. You are entirely unique, Samantha Carter, and I will miss you. Know that I think of you, often." A shaky laugh floated from Sam's throat and she ran her hands down the front of her khaki pants. "And what of Lantesh? Does he think on me to?"

Martouf's countenance closed tightly, a flicker of sorrow touching them before vanishing. "I could not say, Samantha. Perhaps someday, you will discover the truth about Lantesh. Where I have gone, he cannot follow, nor can Jolinar, as much as it causes me grief."

"Now, wait a minute. What do you mean?"

"There will come a time for you to know, but it is not now."

Suddenly, Martouf's hands rose and cupped Sam's cheeks, bringing her features level with his own. Undergoing his thorough examination unnerved her, but she remained motionless, allowing him to delve deeply into her eyes with his gaze. After what seemed an endless eternity of moments, he released her with a contented smile.

"It is well. Tell Jack that he is your future. And that should he ever choose to abandon his responsibility, I may return again to haunt him." The final words were spoken in a mildly teasing tone and she laughed. "Martouf, thank you. Will I ever see you again?"

"No, Samantha. But you will remember me and that is all I ask."

"Always, Martouf."

Her arms encompassed his warm body and they clung together for several moments. Her lashes dampened with tears and her eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Be at peace," he murmured against her ear, his breath stirring delicate tendrils of her hair. A rush of air propelled her forward and when she opened them again, Sam found herself blinking against the darkness in Jack's cabin, her hands clutched around a worn blanket and reclining upon her bunk. Inhaling desperately, she bolted upright, examining the room and finding it dark and comfortably shadowed.

Something reminiscent of a gentle caress brushed across her cheek and Sam's hand lifted to touch the area where lingering warmth rested upon her skin. Jack hadn't moved an iota since she had last seen him; still unconscious to the world. Although now she wondered if perhaps his deep hibernation were not an invention of Martouf's, so he would not awaken. Creeping across the floor, desperately attempting to avoid the creaking spots, she knelt beside Jack's bunk.

Ruffling a hand delicately through his sandy hair, she turned his face toward her. He moved unwillingly at first, even in sleep, before finally shifting all the way to face her, eyes closed and mouth slackened. A contented smile brushed her lips and Sam bestowed the same contentment upon Jack's cheek. She watched him, silently, for several moments, contemplating Martouf's words. Jack was her future, and the thought brought such joy that she felt her heart would explode. Leaning close, her lips barely brushing his ear, she murmured, "I love you, Jack O'Neill."


End file.
